


Good Behaviour

by entanglednow



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Gen, Humor, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: The plants know what fate awaits them if they're bad. But sometimes, if they're very good, there is also a reward.
Comments: 79
Kudos: 365





	Good Behaviour

**Author's Note:**

> I challenged myself this week to write some things under 1000 words, because I've been having trouble with short things for a while now. I was originally going to collect them all together. But they're all turning out to be very different, with different themes, ratings and warnings, so I decided to post them separately.
> 
> This one is a bit of ridiculous plant fun, but I stayed under the word count!

It's been fifty-seven days.

It's been fifty-seven days since the plants had shown even a hint of misbehaviour. No spots, no wilting, no yellowing, no unexpected brown marks, no scattered soil, not even a waft of pollen out of place. Crowley's determined not to mention it, not to draw attention to it in any way. They'll either reach their goal, or they won't. He's given them the appropriate firm direction, the motivation, and all the tools they need to succeed. Giving them anything else would be coddling, it would be cheating, and he won't stand for that. They have to _earn_ it.

He eyes them through the mist as he gently sprays, watching as they stretch their leaves desperately, shine glossily, and present their fragile new stems with all the desperate, hopeful enthusiasm they're capable of.

-

It's been fifty-eight days.

Crowley spends almost an hour in the morning checking every plant, turning every leaf, carefully testing the elasticity of new stems, prodding at the soil for any stealthily discarded greenery. 

He finds absolutely nothing, and he's honestly not sure if he's pleased, or disappointed by that. Not one of them has needed a stern lecture, or solitary confinement, or a menace with the shears for almost two months.

He spends a few minutes moving in an unpredictable circuit of the room, hissing gently, as if to nudge out any hidden miscreants. Part of him wants to berate them, to tell them that they'll never manage it, that they're too used to being a disappointment, to slacking off, to doing the bare minimum to avoid being destroyed.

Instead, he mists them aggressively, and gives them all very pointed looks.

-

It's been fifty-nine days.

There's a tense, nervous air to the plant room, a palpable sense of hope and determination. Some of the newer, younger plants are confused and fearful, uncertain if the quivering in the leaves of their elders is caused by terror, or excitement. The plants are more glossy and verdant than they've ever been, striving desperately for perfection, holding themselves at pleasing angles, awaiting Crowley's final judgement.

He stalks between the rows, turning leaves over, inspecting the surface of the soil for debris, counting stems, lifting every pot to judge its weight and water content.

The plants are...good enough.

-

It's been sixty days.

The plants have managed to make it sixty days, without giving him a single reason to discipline them. 

Crowley is many things, but he's also a demon who keeps his promises. He opens a hidden drawer just inside the room, withdraws the magazine laid within.

"Sixty days," Crowley says clearly, and he lets them feel his surprise, his grudging approval. "I've always said, that if you can survive sixty days in a row without being a disappointment, without me having to discipline any one of you, if you're willing to put the work in, willing to do as you're told, then you would be rewarded."

There's a quiet, excited rustle, a few leaves are shaken loose by the enthusiasm. He chooses to ignore them.

"It's been six and a half years since you last managed it," he reminds them, lip briefly curling in judgement of their many previous failures. They'd been close a few times, they'd even got past fifty-five once. He knows the older ones remember. "But you've managed it today, which means we have a job to do, doesn't it?"

Crowley raises the magazine he's holding, to show them all the cover. They can't see it, and they wouldn't be able to read it if they could, but the older ones _know_.

"I promised you, that if you could all keep yourselves in perfect condition for sixty days, you'd get the chance to be in here -" He flicks roughly through the magazine's glossy pages, past the dozens of high quality pictures of large, green leaves, climbing vines, and heavy, colourful blooms. "And once you get in here, you're in here forever, people will know you did well, they'll know that you were good, and that makes you fucking immortal."

There's a slow rustle of foliage, like a sigh.

"No matter what happens to you after this, no matter how badly you perform from now, even if you end up churned into mulch for your sins." He pauses to give a low, scathing hiss. "Which I guarantee some of you will be. You'll always be in here. You will always be an example of what the others can achieve, if they work hard enough."

Crowley turns back to the hidden drawer, and pulls out an expensive camera, snaps off the lens cap in one movement.

"Now, I suggest you make an attempt to look your best. Because I am going to take photographs of all of you, and the five that I deem the least disappointing, that I find the most _pleasing_ , I will mail in to their offices, and you _will_ be in the June edition of Plant Fancier's Monthly."

The plants gently lean in towards him, as if to see what graces last month's edition more clearly, as if to catch a glimpse of what they can look forward to.

"Only good plants get in the magazine," he tells them sharply. "And I hope you remember this when those around you are failing to grow, when they're slacking off, when they're not trying hard enough. I hope that you'll remember when you weren't a disappointment, when you were something worth rewarding, something that deserved attention, and praise for your hard work. You might never have this chance again. You might be thrown out of this room tomorrow. " Crowley stares at them for a beat, camera creaking under his fingers.

Then he relaxes all at once, holds the button down just for show, until there's a click and a flash, the whole room exposed in sharp light.

"Now, who wants to go first?"

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Good Behaviour [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310978) by [aethel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aethel/pseuds/aethel)
  * [[Podfic] Good Behaviour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371770) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)




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